


Letters to Ichijou

by gingayellow



Category: Kamen Rider Kuuga
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-11 11:34:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2066601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingayellow/pseuds/gingayellow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the last battle and Godai leaves to travel again, he writes to Ichijou what's happening to him, physically and emotionally. [post-series, Godai/Ichijou] Warning for discussing depression.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Post-series, spoilers apply

Title: Letters to Ichijou (1/?)  
Fandom: Kamen Rider Kuuga  
Characters/Pairing: Godai Yuusuke/Ichijou Kaoru  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: Not mine, anything mentioned here by name isn't mine  
Warnings: None  
Notes: Post-series, spoilers apply

_February 27, 2001  
Puerto de la Cruz, Spain_

Dear Ichijou-san,

Okay, first off, you’re probably wondering why I gave (well, will give when I return to Japan, I guess I should say) you all these letters in bulk rather than just mailing them to you. Well, I have a good reason, and not just because postage costs a lot of money!

I’ve sent letters before on my travels, mostly to Minori. I sent her one yesterday. While I like escaping to new places, I don’t want people to think I’ve died or something! But I don’t just wanna send you a few lines about what I ate or where I’m staying. I want to tell you to know everything that’s going through my head as I heal up after the last fight—you deserve to know.

(Right now, when you’re finally reading this, you’re probably telling me that it’s okay if I don’t tell you anything, but I also want you to know.)

So! I’m currently in Puerto de la Cruz. It’s got lots of beaches and sunshine. And I lucked out on my first day! I met this really nice girl named Maria and her grandfather—they let me stay at their place after I got their car out of a ditch (it must have been pretty scary for them, especially since it was after dark when I found them, I’m glad I did).

Did you know that Grandpa (he told me to call him that) runs a restaurant? And that Maria is about Nana’s age? I’ve been helping them out in the kitchen, it’s almost like being back in Japan, with Nana and Uncle. And you.

… Now you’re probably wondering why I keep listing what I’m doing instead of what I’m feeling and thinking, like I promised. It’s not very easy for me, Ichijou-san, even before I became Kuuga. I’ve been having a lot of fun, and even smiling again, sometimes, but. I don’t know.

Well, I do know. A lot of it is scary. And there’s still part of me that doesn’t want anyone to know that. Ever.

But it’s different with you. You were there, every step of the way. If I can tell anyone this, it’s you.

I still have nightmares. About it all. About hurting Grongi, people, all those people who died—sometimes it’s all a blur of faces, sometimes I can see every detail of the people I couldn’t save, Ichijou-san. And this was just after one year, Ichijou-san. I can’t even imagine what it’s like for someone like you, who’s made a career of protecting people.

It’s selfish of me, to run away, while you still work. I know. But if I didn’t, I would…

(Hold on, Grandpa’s here. I’ll be right back!)

Okay, I know I’m getting off topic again, but Grandpa just said the weirdest thing to me! He came in for a midnight snack, so I reheated what we had for dinner (his joints are bothering him, so he can’t be as active as he wants to be). And we talked a bit about the trouble Maria’s having in college, and then—just out of the blue—he said, “Godai, when my wife died, I thought I’d never be happy again. But then my son and his wife had Maria.” And he held my hand, squeezing tight. “Sadness never lasts as long as you think it will. If she’s still around, find your girlfriend and talk to her.” And I appreciated what he said, but I don’t have a girlfriend! It was really wild.

I lost my train of thought now, though. Everything was so clear in my head, but now I don’t know where to begin with what I want to say. I’m sorry! I’ll try again in my next letter—I plan on spending one more week here, then I’m off for another adventure.

I told Minori to give my love to everyone, so I won’t do that here. But I can’t wait to see your face when you read all my letters—hopefully, they’ll make you smile.

—Godai


	2. Bonnyville

Warning: this chapter (and later chapters) will touch on depression.

_March 10, 2001  
Bonnyville, Alberta_

Dear Ichijou-san,

I’m on another adventure! I’ve gone from a beach in Spain to the exact opposite of Spain: one of the more rural parts in Canada. I had to trade some trail mix for a jacket, but so far it’s been really fun! And it’s beautiful—I wish I could show it to you. I know, you have a job, but just in case you change your mind, just let me know. Really! I wouldn’t mind taking you along for a trip!

(I hope Minori showed you the pictures I took of the lake. If she didn’t, don’t worry, I’m keeping a couple on my person to show you in person.)

And before you start worrying, yes, I found a job. I met a lady named Francoise who owns a few vacation cottages. Well, she’s getting on in years and she needs to fix them up for the summer, so she’s been giving me room and board as I renovated them. Skills 282 and 599 are coming in handy.

It’s really quiet here, though. Not like quiet in your office when everyone else went home, and was quiet but you could still hears cars outside—there are no lights, no roads, and the nearest shop is about forty-five minutes away by car. Once Francoise goes home, it’s like I’m the only person in the world. Which is a good and a bad thing.

I guess, for once, I should tell you the bad stuff first. When there’s nothing here to keep me busy, it’s easy for me to think about it. What I can remember, at least. I can’t remember if I told you this (the last few days in Japan were a blur), but I don’t even recall most of the last fight. And the parts that I do… that’s been eating at me ever since. 

All I really remember is how angry I was. At everything. And how good it felt to let that all loose. And Icjhijou-san, if I’d been that angry, what else could I have done? What else could I do, if I got mad? I know the Grongi are gone, but I’m still Kuuga. I could still hurt so many people.

But—and here’s the good part, I promise—then I remember you. How brave you were (and yes, I know you’re a cop, but you were also a cop facing down a monster and hanging out with a guy this close to becoming a monster). And how you were worried for me. 

If someone like you still cares for me, maybe I’m not completely gone after all.

But it doesn’t change that I did become something terrible.

This won’t mean much, since I’ll be back once you read this, but I need to see it myself: I’m not coming back until I remember the last fight. I’m not sure how long that will take—hopefully not long! I wanna see you again soon! But I need to remember what I did, and more importantly, what made me stop. I know everyone, even you, said it’s because the fight was over. But I don’t know. I don’t think Kuuga could stop that easily. 

But a little comes back, almost every day now. It’s scary, knowing what I was capable of, but it also means I can see you again. I can deal with that, I think.

Anyways, it’s late, and my flashlight’s batteries are beginning to die, so I’ll stop here. I’m really busy with work, but I’ll write back soon, I promise! And I might even get to see you soon, too.

—Godai


	3. Priority Mail

_March 12, 2001  
Priority Mail_

Minori,

Please tell Ichijou-san that I’m sorry. He’ll know why.

I’m sorry I don’t have time to say more, but I love you. I don’t do this a lot, but please listen to your big brother.

Godai.


	4. Starks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This deals a little bit with a fic I wrote in the past, but you don't need to read it to read this. Discusses anger issues and (a very mild!) car accident.

_March 19, 2001  
Starks, Maine_

Dear Ichijou-san,

I’m not sure what to say. I’m not sure if I’ll even give you this letter. But I have to get these feelings out, in a non-violent way, and writing is best. It’s like I’m talking to you, but I don’t have to worry about making you sad if I say something. But I guess it’s time to tell you everything.

Because I remembered it a few days ago. All of it.

It’s getting close to spring, but there’s still a lot of snow where I am right now. So I’ve been making a living towing cars out of snow banks, helping people out—things like that. And usually they’re all very nice. But today, there was an accident.

Not a big one, but enough to clog traffic. I was moving as fast as I could, but there were still three cars left in the road, not to mention people that needed to be looked over while they waited in the cold for their cars, but there was one man who, well… he wasn’t willing to be patient.

I don’t remember what he said. A lot of dirty words, I think. And how I wasn’t doing my job right. What I do remember is how angry he looked. His eyes bulged, spittle flew out of his mouth as his voice got louder and louder, until he shoved me.

The shoving was the breaking point I think.

I shoved him back—thankfully, not into the car door, since the impact would have probably killed him. Instead, he landed in a snow back, which was soft enough to absorb the impact. He was just stunned.

I went to help him, but then I remembered that I’d shoved you, too. After the last fight.

Ichijou-san, I’d lost myself enough in the last fight that I hurt you. I tried to kill you.

And you never told me that!

I just—how could you even—in what world would that make sense—

(I need some air)

_March 20, 2001_

I guess I needed more air than I thought. I promise, I’m not angry. Not at you, at least.

After I had the flashback, I ran. Because in that moment, all I could think about was how if I stayed there, I might hurt more people. An old lady yelled after me that it was okay, but if she knew just how much strength was in that shove, she’d be thinking differently.

I don’t know what to do, Ichijou-san. I’ve been holed up in this tiny apartment I’ve been renting, but I’m running low on money. I do know that I don’t want to stay here anymore. It’s time to go away.

And I’m conveniently doing it before I can get any letters from Minori, or Sakurako, or ever you wanting to know if I’m safe. I’m sorry, but I just can’t deal with it right now. I know everyone is worried, but I ooze power. And anger, even after all the Grongi are gone. I’m not the one people need worry over.

I’m also sorry this letter got so sad so quickly. I probably won’t show you this one, either. It would remind you too much of a bad time. But there’s still a part of me that wants you know, even if it’s only through a letter I’m still not sure I’m going to give you when (or if) I come home.

I still want to see you again. But after what I did to you, I’m not sure if I have the right anymore.

—Godai


	5. A Beach

Title: Letters to Ichijou (5/6)  
Fandom: Kamen Rider Kuuga  
Characters/Pairing: Godai Yuusuke/Ichijou Kaoru  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: Not mine, anything mentioned here by name isn't mine  
Warnings: Deals with depression

Notes: Post-series, spoilers apply. Sorry this took so long update--real life got in the way. Touches lightly on the finale.

 

_April 30, 2001_

Dear Ichijou-san,  
You’re probably wondering why there’s no town on this letter. Well, don’t worry, I have a good explanation: I don’t know.

I know, that’s not a good thing when you’re traveling! I really should have a map! But I guess after, well, you know, I needed to lose myself. Literally and figuratively.

I do know I’m somewhere in Florida (I’ve seen a lot “welcome to the Sunshine State” T-shirts and signs). And I’m definitely near a beach. One without a lot of tourists. Which is good—it’s given me a chance to walk and think.

I think you think I’m not a threat. Mind you, I’m just guessing—it’s not like I can ask you right now! And figuring out time zones is not one of my skills (just ask Minori). I’m guess because you didn’t stop me from leaving. If you thought I was dangerous, you wouldn’t have let me leave Japan (and I wouldn’t blame you). And I trust your judgment. That was a huge relief.

And I think (well, I hope) that you’ve forgiven. It seems like something you would do. You keep everything to yourself, but I’ve known you long enough to know what’s really on your mind. And how kind you are. It’s one of the things I’ve… I’ll get to that later.

That just leaves if I can forgive myself.

… There were some children having a fight on the beach yesterday. And I know sometimes kids roughhouse, but I just can’t stand fighting, and I didn’t see any other adults, so I went there and cheered them up with some juggling I learned awhile back. All on instinct—this was the first time I’ve really interacted with anyone, aside from buying food or renting a hotel room, since what happened in Maine. It didn’t sink in what had happened until they were smiling.

I made them happy. Even after everything that happened, I can still make people smile. I’m not just Kuuga anymore. And… and I smiled myself, a little.

So I guess I need to get to the other part of this letter!

It was about a couple of days later, and I was frying up some fish I’d caught, and I was thinking about those kids again, and I had a stray thought about how it would be nice to see you smile again, too.

(And I’m almost definitely not going to show you these letters, so I’ll just it.)

Ichijou-san, I like you. In that way. For awhile now. It took me some time to figure it out, seeing how we were both fighting the Grongi and all, but now I’ve had time to think it out. The one good thing about remember the last fight was that realizing getting this upset about what happened, even after you’ve (probably) let it go, meant something.

You don’t have to like me back. But I do want to see you again. And make sure I’m right, so I’m coming home. First thing tomorrow, I’m calling Minori, and then I’m going to start saving up money for going home.

I’ll see you soon.

—Godai


	6. Nagano

Title: Letters to Ichijou (6/6)  
Fandom: Kamen Rider Kuuga  
Characters/Pairing: Godai Yuusuke/Ichijou Kaoru  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: Not mine, anything mentioned here by name isn't mine  
Warnings: Deals with depression  
Notes: Post-series, spoilers apply. It took me awhile, but I FINALLY finished a WiP--there's something I haven't managed in ages. Sorry, again, I've been super busy!

It would be so much simpler if Godai could just sneak into Ichijou's window.  
  
But Ichijou was a detective, which meant he almost definitely kept his windows locked. Which meant Godai could either wait until Ichijou wanted to let a breeze in (which would take some time) or break in (which was illegal). He'd have to knock on the door.  
  
Which he was gonna do.  
  
Anytime now.  
  
Really.  
  
Godai frowned, readjusting his backpack, eyes fixed on Ichijou's door. He was being silly. Why come back to Japan and all the bad memories unless he absolutely had to--not just that, he  **wanted**  to? He wanted to make sure Ichijou was really okay, and... well, that wasn't definite. In fact, it probably wouldn't happen at all. But he needed to ask.  
  
No more just standing there. Time to gather his courage, bring up his fist, and--  
  
There was Ichijou.  
  
"Ichijou-san." Which was stating the obvious, but really, what else could he say?  
  
"Godai." Apparently, Ichijou was as eloquent as he was today. "You're back."  
  
"Yep." And he was glad he was able to smile a bit. He could almost see the tension ebb from Ichijou after that. "I guess I am." But then he realized. "But if you're going to work, I can leave and come back--"  
  
" **No**." Ichijou seemed as startled by that outburst as Godai, because he cleared his throat. "It's just some errands, and they can wait until tomorrow." He shifted so he wasn't blocking the apartment's entrance. "Please, come in."  
  
Godai forced himself to relax as Ichijou motioned him inside. Well, that had gone okay. Now all he had to worry about was everything else.  
  
\--  
  
He was trying not to stare at Ichijou's apartment, really, but he'd never been here before and it was always interesting, seeing how someone filled their home. Unsurprisingly, Ichijou's home was spartan--just a chair and a television he'd probably bought about ten years ago. But there were also stacks of newspapers and books that Godai was itching to look at, because he'd always wondered what Ichijou did in his off time...  
  
"How long?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"How long do you plan to stay in Japan?"  
  
Godai leaned forward in his seat. He never did like placing time limits on things, but he owed some sort of answer to Ichijou. "For the rest of the year, I think. Maybe a little more."  
  
"I see." Ichijou kept eye contact, and his body language was neutral, but Godai saw how his knuckles tightened around the chair arm--when you knew someone as well as Godai knew Ichijou, you noticed these things. Even if you'd been separated for months.  
  
Even if you...  
  
"I think it's time for dinner." Godai stood up and made a show to stretching his limbs.  
  
"Of course. I'll order some take out; what would you--"  
  
"No, I mean I'll make something for you." Godai stepped into the kitchen, which was as spartan as the living room. "What would you like?"  
  
Ichijou shrugged. "What's in there?"  
  
Godai chuckled. "Well, you should know, it's your house--"  
  
There was nothing in there but a half-empty bag of rice.  
  
"No wonder he wanted to do take out."  
  
Well, no matter, this wouldn't be the first time he'd made a meal out of nothing. There was a little beef left in the freezer--he'd make some stir fry. It might be a little plain, but they'd be fine. Realizing it was quiet, he decided to make talk abit--nothing too intense, just some of the people he'd seen at the airport, and how he'd like to see some of the others, if they had time. Ichijou would agree and disagree at the right times, but then Godai noticed it was just him talking. When he started putting food on the plates, he saw why.  
  
Ichijou was staring at his backpack, like it had all the secrets of the universe. Godai couldn't blame him. Ichijou was a detective, and there was evidence for the question he wanted to answer right there.  
  
Godai set the table. He'd wanted to do this gradually. Make Ichijou (and himself) feel at ease before he tacked the more difficult things that had to be sad. But it was also eating Ichijou up inside. And he did have answers already, all written out.  
  
So Godai went back to the living room, unzipped his backpack, and after some rummaging, found the plastic bag he'd kept the letters in. So they wouldn't get damaged. "These are for you."  
  
Ichijou looked at the letter, then at Godai. "I don't understand."  
  
"While I was traveling, I wrote you some letters. Except you weren't supposed to read them," he amended with a grimace. "But I'm guessing you might want to know some of the things I was up to."  
  
"If it's personal, Godai, then I have no right to read it."  
  
Godai took the letters out of the bag, pressing them into Ichijou's hands. "I want you to. But, um, keep in mind I wasn't expecting you to read them some day. You don't have to say anything if you don't want!"  
  
"I think I understand."  
  
...Godai couldn't believe what a slow reader Ichijou was. Why was it taking him so long just to finish a page! He hadn't written that much, had he? But then again, maybe he was really mad, or confused, and geez, maybe talking it out over dinner would have been better after all--  
  
"Godai?"  
  
"Y-yeah?"  
  
"I'm done. And thank you." He up the letters down on the coffee table gently. Like he was afraid they'd crumble if he wasn't careful. "However, I do have a few things to say, if you don't mind."  
  
"Never."  
  
"It wasn't your fault."  
  
Godai felt like he was gonna throw up. "Then whose fault was it?"  
  
"A year of stress from combat, and resisting the will to kill for the pleasure of fighting." Ichijou gazed at him levelly. "You were the one who fought it back, and kept it from killing me."  
  
Godai couldn't quite meet Ichijou's gaze right now, so he ducked his head. "Seriously?"  
  
"Always." Godai was grateful that he didn't add  _and if you'd actually **mailed**  the letters and had a normal correspondence with me, I could have told you so,_ but he suspected it was because Ichijou knew he didn't have to.  
  
"I just need to know if you forgive me."  
  
"Wait, what?!" Now Godai looked up again, and he'd never seen Ichijou look so--so sad in his life. "Ichijou, you were the one time that kept me going sometimes!"  
  
"But you were hurting, and I didn't know."  
  
"Because I didn't give the letters until now, remember?!" Ichijou was a detective and really smart. Why was he being so dense all of a sudden? "Ichijou-san, please listen." He took Ichijou's hand. Loosely, in case Ichijou wanted to pull away, but when he didn't Godai strengthened his grip. "If I was actually mad, would I have come back?"  
  
"... You have a point."  
  
"Thank you." Godai felt himself smile for me. "If you can forgive me, then I can forgive you."  
  
"Indeed. Then I guess I have one more thing to say."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
Ichijou cleared his throat. Twice. He looked terrified and happy at the same time. "I, um. Feel the same way."  
  
...Oh?  
  
Oh!  
  
This was turning out to be the best day ever!  
  
"Then do ya mind if I kiss you?" Because permission was important.  
  
Ichijou smiled at him. "Feel free."  
  
It wasn't a perfect kiss. They had to try twice before their lips actually met, and Godai had to fight back a laugh (he was just so happy). But it was still wonderful. And they would have other opportunities to try again.  
  
But for now, he was content with being home, with Ichijou. They were both the same things now. "Dinner's probably cold."  
  
Ichijou took his hand again, leading Godai into the kitchen. "We're back together. I think we'll manage."


End file.
